tall green trash bins
stand sentinel - each side -
for this cavalcade of one

branches wave, leaves applaud

the stout school crossing guard
flags me by

keepers at the drive-through gate
nod in recognition -
a goblet of dark roast
handed over in salute

a stop light that's never green
is evergreen
until this parade passes

exiting to the expressway

don't feel too inspired
in fact I'm rather tired
I feel a nap coming on

lay down . . .

don't feel all that tired
in fact I'm pretty wired
got some chores I need to do

get up . . .

wish that I had hired
a maid I am so mired
hear a book call my name

sit down . . .

not much plot transpired
the author should be fired
salty chips would make my day

get up . . .

no chips below or higher
disappointment dire
think that I will meditate

sit down . . .

my lap becomes a bier
three cats have come to lie here
was in focus now so blurry

curl up . . .

the kitties had conspired
and risked this person's ire
knowing all the while they're safe

to sleep we now aspire . . .

Jax slinks to the bowl
swipes a paw across the brink
litter in his drink

Java to the sink
jumps up to drink faucet drops
before they ker-plink

M J stops to think
before deigns to take a drink
lynx philoso-fur

we can't ever agree on this
you and I . . .

let's dance

leaving the ghosts of what we know
to sip our warm watery scotch

we'll lose our spite inside a song
the pulse of drums and pounding hearts
swing our hips on common ground

let's leave our piece of cake that's crumbled
reminiscent fallen ash

there's nothing left upon this table
that will not be the trash at dawn

allow me to celebrate the ant
summer miscre-ant in my kitchen
picking up pieces of pieces "to go":
a crumb of Meow Mix, a crushed Cheerio;

applied the usual eco-safe spray
detecting this way too feint for they
amassed to quest their innate objective
exploring and toting the prime directive;

hymenoptera tents with doors
four on the floor: cafes of poison
for caulking the cracks in the walls hadn't solved
the stay-past-your-welcome guests involved;

soon numbers diminished but still a few
creeping through unrepent-ant
I swept thrice per day to starve them out
yet brooms are too thick all crannies to rout;

surrendered and wondered, perhaps they are teachers
attempting to bypass my brainy block
too thick to buzz with what the ants know?
I squat as a toddler to take-in their show;

for hours observing them (off and on)
until an implosion of comm-ants sense
challenged my globalized conception
exposing my mind to ant redemption;

the ant is now my writing totem
trouble though they'll be next June
within this mantra is what they knew:
one moment one crumb to carry and chew;

insight's relative I realize
ants have their own frustrations with size
but ponder the ant when writing time's little:
at peace with a piece of ant-agonist vittle.

We all need to play, play is the way
To manifest our quiddity,
Alleviate stress, perform at our best,
Laughter can render lucidity.

But we insist by rational twist
On living in stress and stupidity,
Ignoring our nub and joining the club
That actively sponsors morbidity.

No need to frown or silence the clown
To fake a mature identity,
Success can be won while people have fun
And flourish in spontaneity.

Alien among aliens,
Fanning delicate fins to promenade
A prim coquette and starchy cavalier
Trimmed and tined in ossein finery,
Sipping shrimp cocktails, dancing demure
Circles before blushing coral courts,
Holding hinds in groves of turtle grass
Until the paisley bodies
Bump bellies, and she imbues his pocket
With inklings marooned in dreaming Pegasus.

Unpolished weathered wood plays on my palms,
I pull and reach and pull an even beat
Attending algae'd oars aqueous psalm
Altered by the tangled grass I meet,
in counterpoint  small waves percuss the prow
Accentuating the pause before I cull,
Mellifluous zephyrs bowing across my brow
Enhance the exposition of the gulls,
Above the hem of heaven's dress the bright
Cerulean bodice trilled with Cirrus lace
Beguiles regard, but maddeningly polite
She smooths her skirt across the score of space

Eclipsing a poet's want to read the ruse,
This lady only lingers to amuse.

Adobe skinned mimicry of light,
Piece of pebbly lunar surface fallen
To misty *******, reverse panoply,
Spiny spar of stellar tapestry
Nimbly navigating mortared limbs
In sultry sea-cellar ballet,
Rocky roofed conspirator of clams,
Swarthy pirate, silent smithy of shells.

The meaning fo metathesis si easy ot recall
When you give your love a ikss or throw your sno a ball,
Aks fro sugra ni your cup nad dressnig no the greens
Obedience school fro the pup ro you may riks a scene.

Og fro the glod ni all you od nad when you've done your bets
Relax nad know that you will og fra along your quets,
Snik a putt ot get the pra like pors no the V.T.
Write a sotry, count the stras, climb the lod brich tree.

Nature's Math is Relative:
to each of us - - democratically

your speed of light - - the same as mine
no matter what - - do you place
yourself at the center of things.....

at least of your experience?

time and space - - shrinking - - expanding
justified to velocity

true for one - - likewise for all
in synch with stars - - our eye's perception.


Nature's Mind is Flexible:
with this we play dramatically

life as process - - always flowing
morphing - - surprising - - do you find
your everydays forever fresh.....

at least for one beat of your heart?

one idea - - fading - - growing
briefly a subject of contemplation

clear to one - - peculiar to all
ever evolving - - delight of conception.


Nature's Essence Waves and Points:
appearing demographically

ripples swell - - taking on
locality - - do you take up
space and author consequence.....

at least enough to make one point?

a single wave - - rising - - receding
articulated in commotion

thrill of I - - solace of we
heart and face of realization.

Resplendent rose, luminous green,
Lucid paradisaical palette,
The jewel delivers
It's dyed, distinctive sheen
Graciously, unassumingly

Casting a pink and emerald crewel
Coalescing into traces,
Cuisine for sunbeams
Brushing nature's easel --
Bedecking the constellation lighting on earth,

Realizing among tureens:
Scalloped edge profusions offering
The spoonbill waif
Sweet adrenaline,
Fueling it's sojourn in the atmosphere.

Bird of prey, humming minstrel,
Airy, iridescent meddler
Between red blooms,
Distant gem's sparkle
Gracing redolent, languid afternoons

Cloaked in shimmering velveteen,
Beating velocious wings, remaining still.

Over this I vacillate:
The writing down of verse,
Wealth of language distillate
Quench and cause my thirst.

Easy enough to hesitate
When errands need be run,
Either way I procrastinate
Leaving the other undone.

For quiet I equivocate
Time and time again, for
It is bliss to terminate
The what, the where, the when.

Sometimes I stew in stalemate
Two webs entreat be spun:
Revel in stillness or illustrate,
I pay with time for one.

Rilke said discriminate
If one must write or not,
To breath to write to oscillate
Conundrum of my plot.

Awareness and artistry bifurcate
My will in two extremes,
Yet I know when conjugate
They vivify the means.

Unsure if it is designate
I muse and metaphor,
I know with thrill words compensate
When they begin to roar.

What is the thing that animates
This soul to write a poem,
Passion to note and formulate
Or to be loved at home?